


reach past the surface

by BlueSapphire718



Series: from the stars above (the cosmos are alight) [5]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cliffhanger, Developing Relationship, Fix-It of Sorts, Flirting, Humor, M/M, Multi, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23911864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueSapphire718/pseuds/BlueSapphire718
Summary: The chandeliers hang over his head, bright and glittery as chatter fills the air, the nonsense weaving in his ears as Fox breathes. It's not exactly his ideal mission, but he's a soldier, one of the Coruscant Guard. He's supposed to deal with diplomats and Senators, mostly the Chancellor, on almost a daily basis; he has to deal with them in a gala, too.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/Agen Kolar/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: from the stars above (the cosmos are alight) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553083
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88





	reach past the surface

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song _Who I'm Meant to Be_ by Anthem Lights.
> 
> I _nearly_ made it into an Agen/Fox Cinderalla AU because I was that bored. I have no idea how it turned into this ship. I really, really don't.

The chandeliers hang over his head, bright and glittery as chatter fills the air, the nonsense weaving in his ears as Fox breathes. It’s not exactly his ideal mission, but he’s a soldier, one of the Coruscant Guard. He’s supposed to deal with diplomats and Senators, mostly the Chancellor, on almost a daily basis; he has to deal with them in a gala, too.

Except... he despises when he has to talk to them, and he’s still waiting for the one who’s supposed to be his partner.

 _They’re late_ , he thinks viciously as he stands next to the doors to the balcony, dressed in uncomfortable formal clothing. According to intelligence, there is a planned terrorist attack tonight during the gala. Not Separatist-related but- close enough. There _is_ supposed to be a Jedi here, specifically Obi-Wan, except he’s been called away last minute for another mission.

And the new Jedi assigned to him is late. Not that Fox will say it to their face.

A hush of silence washes through the room, makes him frown before he silently slips through a couple of politicians to see what the fuss is. He squints at two faraway figures at the doorway, though... they _do_ look familiar for some reason. One of the figures inclines their head, dark eyes meeting his own, and he swallows. They are steady, beautiful, and he has no idea what to do with that notion.

The other figure follows the first figure’s gaze, before blue eyes sharpen and a wide smile breaks across their face. They tug the first figure along, passing through the Senators and diplomats with polite greetings and- oh. That’s Obi-Wan, with that mischievous smile that Fox wants to kiss off of him.

“Commander Fox!” Obi-Wan says in delight when they reach him. Chatter fills up the air again, and Fox leads the way back to where he originally was. “It is so good to see you again.”

“Likewise, General,” Fox responds in kind, snaps into a quick salute, looks towards the other. A Zabrak, and by the looks of it, judging by the stony expression on his face, he’s not enjoying himself, either. “And you must be...?”

“I am Jedi Master Agen Kolar,” the Zabrak says stiffly, dark eyes glancing towards the windows. Tiny black dots catch the light, around his horns and over the bridge of his nose. The way Agen is holding himself is one of calm confidence, though the way his eyes are darting left and right shows he’s focusing on the task at hand, no matter what Fox wants to do first.

Namely, to internally swallow at how _pretty_ Agen is, and– it’s slightly worse than when Obi-Wan flirted with him when he was on duty, which is several times, if he remembers correctly. Both of them look _beautiful_ , though, and Fox has _no_ idea what to do with that information.

Obi-Wan smiles, a sharp and vicious thing of _glee_. “Master Kolar is here to help us as backup,” the Jedi General explains quietly, offering a hand to Agen as he continues to smile. Agen stares at the hand for a moment before he snorts and takes it. “I must say, though, you look absolutely stunning, Commander, even more so than Master Kolar here.”

“I am not here to look _pretty_ , Master Kenobi,” Agen says flatly, inclines his head as his eyes meet Fox’s. Fox desperately wants a bucket over his head so Obi-Wan or Agen can’t see his face burning, except he’s here as one of these Jedi’s partners... or both.

Oh _kriff_ , it’s both of them, isn’t it?

“Thank you, General,” he says hoarsely instead, before trying to focus on the issue at hand. “Intelligence says that the terrorist attack would most likely happen during the middle of the gala, but there’s no telling what would happen if the said terrorist realizes there are two Jedi here. On top of that, there are still many Senators and politicians that might get caught up in this mess.”

“They may turn tail and run,” Obi-Wan says quietly, thoughtfully, strokes his beard. “Or proceed as planned. We may have to apply some rather... aggressive negotiations.”

“... aggressive negotiations,” Agen repeats, like he didn’t expect Obi-Wan to say those words. Then his lips curve into a dark, wicked smirk full of slyness. “I like that, Kenobi.”

“Why, thank you, Master Kolar, I _do_ aim to please,” Obi-Wan says with a wink at Fox and a disarming smile, as if he _knows_ what Fox is thinking. If anything, Fox feels like melting into a puddle and onto the ground, because he’s slightly ready to bolt for the closest barracks and hide there so both Jedi don’t see how close he is to combusting. “Would you both care to join me for a drink?”

Thire is going to _laugh_ at him. 

“Yes, sir,” Fox says weakly, and desperately hopes Agen will knock some sense into Obi-Wan so he doesn’t have to feel himself beating up.

Agen doesn’t. Instead, he lifts his hand from Obi-Wan’s and gestures Fox to him. “I will stay here,” he says, and that is apparently the end of it. But, Agen takes his hand and places it within Obi-Wan’s hand, and his gaze is softer before he turns and disappears into the crowd.

Fox stares after him, before Obi-Wan tugs at his hand and he obeys, follows the other Jedi through the crowd to the refreshment table. Laughter and continuing chatter echoes in his ears as he tries to ignore the way Obi-Wan’s hand seems to be holding onto him tightly. It’s going to be a few awkward minutes, he can be certain of that.

“So, Commander,” Obi-Wan says when they reach the table, takes two cups of wine and hands it to him. Or not. Fox reluctantly takes one of the cups, allowing himself to take a sip before the taste of bitterness washes over his tongue, the aftertaste of what seems to be sweet honey following.

Grimaces, and places the cup back down, and Obi-Wan softly laughs. “Yes, General?” he asks after a few moments of trying to regain his taste buds back. It’s a momentary failure.

“Just call me Obi-Wan here,” the Jedi says in amusement, his eyes heading towards one side of the room. Fox follows his gaze, spots Agen swiftly moving across the room towards someone; one of the politicians, he supposes. “What do you think of Agen?” 

“General Kolar?” Fox says, raises his eyebrow as he keeps one eye on the other Jedi. Agen slightly turns his head, dark eyes briefly meeting his own before the Zabrak ducks under a tray, his robes slightly billowing in the quick steps. Did he already find the culprit? That’s startling faster than when the Coruscant Guard is trying to find someone. Shakes his head and tries to focus on answering Obi-Wan’s question.

“He seems to be...” Focused, pretty, someone he wants to get to know more about. “... interesting.”

Obi-Wan smiles. “Precisely what I think, Commander,” he says, and Fox wonders if the Jedi’s reading his thoughts and answering to both of his words in his mind and out of it. “However, you may find that Agen is a little... intense in his entrance.”

Fox stares at him. “Sir?” he manages, and–

An explosion erupts from the side of the room. Screams of horror immediately take to the air.

“Ah, just in time, too,” Obi-Wan says, pleased.

“ _Sir_?”

Someone leaps over the refreshment table, one of the Mirialan politicians, if Fox remembers correctly, and makes a mad dash for the balcony. Fox immediately gets out one of his blasters, sets it to stun, and fires at the Mirialan. It misses, nearly hitting Chancellor Palpatine, and he grimaces.

At least he missed; Obi-Wan is already chasing after the politician, disappearing into the crowd just as fast.

Agen swings himself over the refreshment table next to him, dark eyes flickering towards him. The Zabrak grunts, jerks his head towards the balcony doors, and Fox follows him through the crowd. Something dark catches his eyes though, and Fox has to stop for a moment to stare at the offending object. A dark hilt of a lightsaber lies on the ground, a dark contrast to the white flooring. 

Fox picks it up, hurriedly clips it to his belt and runs after Agen. Do _all_ Jedi drop their lightsabers when chasing after a criminal? Well. At least he can return the lightsaber to the Jedi later, after they arrest the politician. The crowd parts for him to easily catch up to the Zabrak, who’s standing outside on the balcony, seemingly calculating the distance between them and the garden below them. 

“Are your hands free, Fox?” Agen suddenly asks, glances towards him. He tries not to look at the Zabrak for saying his _name_.

“Yes, sir,” he answers quickly, peers down to see the faint outline of trees below them. It’s one of the most beautiful gardens, if he can remember the descriptions of it. Thorn had talked about visiting there with Senator Amidala once, when guarding her, joked that Fox could have a date there with someone after the war was over.

Fox had punched him. It was a warranted reaction.

Warm hands suddenly picks him up, and Fox yelps in alarm, scrambling for a hold as he’s resettled into arms. Agen looks down at him, his eyes flickering with faint amusement like a flame in the night as he holds Fox tightly to him. “We’re jumping down,” is all Agen says, as Fox tightly grasps Agen’s shoulders, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. 

He feels his face grow hot. “General Kolar, what-”

The wind harshly blows against his face, cutting off his question as Agen leaps off the balcony and down to the garden. Swallows, shakes, and all Fox can do is bury his face against Agen’s shoulder and pray that they won’t get killed. He’s not used to Jedi (who are _pretty_ ) to suddenly grab him and jump off a balcony. Agen is warm, his arms secured around him as he tries not to scream.

Suddenly, a soft _thud_ rings in his ears. Fox cautiously peers out, slightly relieved to see the ground. Looks up to see Agen tilting his head to the side, before the Zabrak gives a faint smile. “You look nice,” Agen says, almost casually, and–

“ _Nice_?” Fox squeaks out pathetically, and maybe his voice cracks a little, and maybe he’s trying to fight off a blush.

“Yes,” Agen simply murmurs, letting him down to the ground. He can hear his heart pounding in his chest as he gawks at the way Agen is looking at him. Agen lifts his head, and he jolts back to reality, scrambling for his blaster as he checks if the lightsaber is still there. It is, much to his relief, and he checks if his blaster is still on the stun setting. “Obi-Wan?”

“Really, you missed the party, Agen,” Obi-Wan says cheerfully, dragging the unconscious Mirialan behind him. Fox bends down to grab his set of stun cuffs, before clicking them around the Mirialan's wrists. 

Agen snorts. “I had other business,” he answers after glancing towards Fox, and all Fox wants to do is hide somewhere so he doesn’t have to show his face. A breeze blows towards him, slightly chilly against his face, makes him duck his face and avoids looking towards the two Jedi.

“Did you now?” The interest in Obi-Wan’s low voice does _not_ make him twitch and turn around.

Instead, he observes the Mirialan’s formal suit, kneeling down, reaching deep to pull out a flash-bang grenade. It’s not concerning, considering the Mirialan won’t be able to use it now. Fox hands the grenade to Agen, who takes it and places it elsewhere. Continues to search for other weapons on the said Mirialan as he feels eyes on his back.

Well. No more weapons at least.

He glances back, meeting Agen’s eyes as the Zabrak nonchalantly tucks his arms into sleeves as Obi-Wan inclines his head. Fox only places his hands on his knees, rises to his feet as he turns towards them. Obi-Wan seems curious to what they’re going to do next, the Jedi watches them with blue eyes that seem to shimmer gently under the moonlight.

“Anything else, sir?” Fox asks roughly, and Obi-Wan smiles sharply.

“I can think of a few things,” Obi-Wan says lightly, treads towards him slowly as Agen stands next to him, a dark hand reaching out to take his own. “But we should save it for later, don’t you agree? Preferably somewhere with a bed.”

“Yes, sir,” he answers weakly, hears Agen softly grunt before the Zabrak presses close to him.

His hand doesn’t let go, though Agen lifts a free hand to brush against his cheek. Feels his face grow warm from it as Obi-Wan laughs and takes his other hand, a wicked smile twisting on his lips. It’s surprisingly lovely, to be there with them, the way they’re standing together.

“Anything else before we go?” Agen asks, and Fox remembers the lightsaber, feels the weight of it on his belt.

“Yes, sir, there actually is.” Fox withdraws the lightsaber from his person and hands to Obi-Wan, who lifts the lightsaber from his hands with a small frown. He decides to move on, so they can have a clear picture of what happened. “I believe that one of you dropped it when we were chasing after the criminal, sir.”

A short moment of silence occurs, before Obi-Wan opens his mouth. “Commander,” the Jedi says slowly, “this isn’t one of our lightsabers.”

Agen’s hand tightens its hold on him as Fox stares. “Sir? _Not_ one of your lightsabers?”

“The Force around this lightsaber is full of darkness. Strange,” Obi-Wan mutters, before he waves it away from them and clicks a button. A red blade springs from the hilt, humming loudly, crimson light radiating. They all stare at it before Obi-Wan clicks it off. “Well. This certainly explains why I have never seen this lightsaber before in my life. Or why it’s dark.”

“A Sith’s ‘saber,” Agen says quietly, before Fox glances up towards the Zabrak. “Where did you find this again, Fox?”

“In the gala,” Fox answers slowly, before it clicks in his mind. Both Jedi beside him grimaces, his mind suddenly racing with thoughts, theories. Impossible, but yet... if the lightsaber he just handed over was found in the gala, that means–

Agen is the one who speaks their thoughts out loud. “The Sith Lord is part of the Senate.”


End file.
